


Open Circle

by I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Established Kink Relationship, Ethical Slut Obi-Wan, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Gen, Kink With Plot, Kinkster Kit Fisto, Kinky Obi-Wan, M/M, Multi, Non-Hierarchical Polyamory, Obi-Wan has a Happy Place with People Like Him, Other, Public In Context of Convention Not in Context of Coruscant, Public Sex, Sex at a Kink Convention, relationship anarchy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-06-01 07:00:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15137684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning/pseuds/I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning
Summary: A/B/O does not exist in this universe, but that doesn't keep it from being Obi-Wan's favorite fantasy. Along with breeding benches. And the idea of being “sold.”  When Anakin had decided to try a kink convention, it never crossed his mind that he might see someone he actually knew.





	Open Circle

 

Anakin stood frozen, staring across the room as convention-goers walked by, cutting off his line of sight every now and then.

The entire hall was filled with moans, cries, groans, the crack of floggers against flesh, and the scent of sex.

But over all of it, Obi-Wan's inarticulate whimpers of pure need.

Twelve years with this man, ten as his padawan, two as his brother-in-arms, and never _once_ had it even _crossed Anakin's mind_ that Obi-Wan Kenobi might even be remotely interested in sex.

Yet here he was, in the main play hall of a  _kink convention,_ strapped to a funny-shaped bench, blindfolded, earplugs in, and being taken by  _random strangers._

This was the third one Anakin had borne witness to.

It... it sickened him.

To see Obi-Wan, utterly shameless about such an  _objectifying_ position. And having sex in public. And being handled by  _Kit Fisto,_ of all people, as if he were to be  _bestowed_ on people in exchange for currency— because Anakin  _saw it_ changing hands.

Thankfully Fisto— in a black leather kilt and nothing else, not even shoes— hadn't spotted him, and Obi-Wan  _couldn't_ . He wore not only the blindfold, but a Force-suppressing collar as well.

 

* * *

 

Another man stepped up to the bench.

Fisto saw by the wristbands he wore that he was both dominant, and interested in A/B/O objectification. He handed Fisto his datacard, and the Nautolan glanced down at the blue glowing text.

Clear of diseases. Check.

In good standing with the consent watchdog organizations and convention protocols. Check.

The stamps of trainers who had given classes in safe artificial knotting procedures.

All set.

He gave a nod, the token changed hands, and Kit placed his hand on the back of Obi-Wan's neck.

The human shuddered, thighs spreading just a bit wider, in spite of how many men he'd already served today.

Kit smiled to himself, crossing his arms again and standing guard by Obi-Wan's head as the stranger drew the plug from Kenobi's ass, tested how stretched he was, slipped on a condom, lubed himself and Obi-Wan's entrance, and then slid home.

A breathy whisper of content escaped Obi-Wan.

Kit refused to look over at the knight who stood watching them in shock and roiling confusion.

Kit and Obi-Wan had discussed the possibility of what Obi-Wan would prefer should someone he knew stumble upon a scene.

_Ignore them. Keep going._

This was a safe place for an ethical slut to receive the anonymous attention he craved, to give himself over to Kit so he could give up all higher brain functions and just  _exist_ and endure the overwhelming sensations he loved.

They would stick to the plan Obi-Wan had requested.

_“If they are horrified, they'll look away. If they don't turn away, then they have no right to complain. They will have invaded_ our  _place. Not the other way around. They would have to seek us out to find us. We're not forcing our way of life on them at that point.”_

The stranger pulled out, slid in the butt plug, and Obi-Wan clenched around it, a choked sound escaping him.

Without any reassurance, he was left in the silence and dark alone to await the next “customer” who would crave an “omega in heat.”

Several minutes passed.

Obi-Wan whined in his throat.

Kit made no move to reassure him.

A new wave of people swept into the room, let out from the latest series of classes.

It was a woman who was packing a dick with a knot that “paid” Kit next.

Kit stroked Obi-Wan's neck in signal, the slut waited, expectantly—

And reacted with delighted surprise at the different sensation of being pegged.

And oh, was he receptive to her demands of his body.

Drool edged from the corner of his mouth, Obi-Wan too far into his subspace to realize it.

Kit smirked at the sight, checked to make sure Obi-Wan's forehead support was still steady after all the abuse the piece of furniture had sustained over the course of the past hour.

He glanced at his chrono. Almost time.

One more.

The final participant— a zabrak— had an actual genuine knot, which Obi-Wan didn't realize until it expanded within him.

He convulsed, a keen of overwhelmed pleasure clenching through him, his cock— spent from coming untouched much earlier on in the process— squeezed out just a little more fluid— none of it semen— and shuddered as he came dry.

Obi-Wan went limp against the bench, letting the knot hold.

_An excellent finish,_ Kit mused, delighted his dear one had been given such a nice surprise.

They were not lovers in the traditional sense, Kit Fisto and Obi-Wan Kenobi. But for certain scenes, Kit was the one with all control over how Obi-Wan's body was used, and by whom.

The trust Obi-Wan invested in him was a thrill all its own for Kit, and Obi-Wan got to have the sensation of danger without actual harm to his body or mind.

The zabrak pulled free and after a nod to Fisto, walked away.

Time to slowly bring Obi-Wan back to this world.

 

* * *

 

Fisto pulled a wipe from a tub, used it to methodically wipe down Obi-Wan's back, clearing it of come and lube. The rhythm of it seemed almost instinctive, clearly a ritual of its own.

From there, he unlatched the wrist restraints, but Obi-Wan's hands remained on the arms of the fripping bench.

Fisto wiped Obi-Wan's mouth next, as if he were a little child, and Anakin didn't want to think about  _why_ that might be necessary.

Off came the blindfold, though Obi-Wan's eyes opened just a bit before settling into a barely-opened crack, his forehead still resting against the head support.

Fisto cleaned his thighs, then unlatched his feet. Cleaned around— around his entrance. Rubbed some sort of ointment into the used rim, kneaded the surrounding muscles—

A low moan of gratitude escaped the naked man.

Took out the earplugs.

Removed the cage from around Obi-Wan's cock, and gently cleaned his front where he'd made a mess.

And then Fisto gently peeled him off the bench and reclined him on his side on the padding on the floor. Still naked.

Fisto lifted a sealed cup, pressed the straw between Obi-Wan's lips.

Anakin's former master accepted it, throat swallowing a few times, and then letting go of the straw.

“Ready?” Fisto asked, voice low. Anakin had to strain to hear it.

Obi-Wan's hand came up, clumsily, almost as if he were drunk, and stayed the green hand.

Then...

After a long moment...

He nodded, laying down and curling more securely against the mat.

Fisto unlatched the Force-suppression collar, and slipped it off.

Obi-Wan stiffened, the Force rushing back in and lighting every nerve he possessed on fire.

Anakin cringed.

Obi-Wan wailed, and Fisto's hands stroked Kenobi's sides, his voice crooning low and soothing.

“Good for me. So good for me. So brave.”

Obi-Wan began to shudder again, the Force sending Anakin mixed signals.

The deprivation of so much sensation meant its return was overwhelming, yet combined with Fisto's praise and touch— as if Obi-Wan were an injured animal— seemed to be giving Obi-Wan a great deal of pleasure.

Finally, exhaustion won the day, and Obi-Wan slipped into a dazed sleep.

Fisto drew a blanket over him—

_A little late for modesty,_ Anakin sneered in disbelief, then realized it had to be to ward off chill, not eyes—

And then the emerald Jedi Master looked straight into Anakin's eyes and walked towards him, gait confident, eyes guarded.

_Kark._

Anakin considered trying to walk away, but knew there was no way in hell it could look like anything other than fleeing... so he stood his ground.

The Nautolan's expression was a neutral that Anakin couldn't read, and in the Force, a similar even-keeled lack of judgment.

For now.

Anakin tried not to speak, but words built up inside him, furious and hot, and they _needed_ to be said—

“How could you do that to him?” he hissed.

Kit arched an eye ridge at him. “What, exactly, do you think I did?”

“You  _tied him up_ and took away the Force and made him— made him have sex for money! I  _saw you_ selling him!”  
“For  _buttons,_ Anakin. And he will be very proud of how many he earned me tonight.” Fisto flicked something in Anakin's direction, and the younger knight caught it, seeing it flash silver in the light.

Sure enough...

A button. With a stylized dong on it.

“I don't understand.” Anakin could feel his hand begin to tremble. “I could sense his  _pain._ ”

“Certain types of pain in certain situations can be their own forms of pleasure. An intense sensation, just like PIV sex.”

“PIV?”

“Penis in vagina.”

Anakin tried to swallow, found it difficult. “You  _tied him up._ ”

“At his request.”

 

* * *

 

The younger knight seemed a little lost for words, so Kit nodded to the band around his wrist. “You didn't sneak in. You're here to learn about sensation play. Feathers. Gritpaper. Erotic touch.”  
Skywalker stared down at his armband, then squinted into Kit's eyes, questions in his own.

The Nautolan just wasn't sure  _what_ Skywalker was looking for.

“I understand and respect your concern for Obi-Wan's health and well-being. I can assure you, this is far from the first time he's indulged in this form of play, and he didn't immediately dive in the deep end. He trained himself into it. And if you're concerned by how many people might have seen him enjoying himself: he is not at all shy about his sexuality when in one of these safe places where it is a norm, not a social taboo.”

Anakin visibly swallowed. “Okay,” he murmured, still looking worried. At least the outrage and fear seemed to be abating. “I just... if he's so lonely, there's someone I know would love to keep him warm. He doesn't  _have_ to... he is  _worth love._ ”

“The two of you need to talk. And if you're concerned about him cheating on Satine,  _yes,_ you should speak to him about it.”

Anakin's eyes went wide. “He  _told_ you?”

“An important part of polyamory is the knowledge and consent of all parties.”

“She...  _lets you_ do this with him?”

_Oh, dear._ “Obi-Wan does not engage in relationships that include hierarchy. It is a boundary for him.”

“Hierarchy?” Anakin echoed, the last of his fear gone in confusion and perhaps the shock finally setting in.

“When an individual with a relationship with you can put limits on or control your relationship with a person that does not involve them. Obi-Wan would not tell a significant other they could only be friends with a person after he's met them and okays them; he feels the same independence should be allowed for romantic or sexual relationships as well. Knowledge and consent; but not check-in-with-first or permission from a third individual not directly involved.”

Anakin shifted from foot to foot and shivered. “Its... that's... um...”

“A lot to process,” Kit offered, beginning to feel compassion now that it looked like Anakin wasn't intent on making Obi-Wan miserable for who he was. “Do you have a plan for classes today?”

Anakin shook his head. “There's just the one for sure. Sensation 101. I thought I'd look around, you know. I didn't have much of a... plan...”

“Would you be interested in recommendations?”

Anakin gnawed at his lip before asking, “Would it... make talking to him easier?”  
“They would give you more tools for that discussion.”

The curl-strewn head bobbed. “Okay.”

Fisto pulled a pen out of his boot, took the program Anakin handed to him, and quickly circled three listings. “This one?” He tapped at the first, “Will explain the basics of why people might enjoy what you saw Obi-Wan doing. It's actually geared for people who love self-proclaimed sluts, but are not built that way themselves. Talks about what can be done to support their loved one's health and happiness.”

Some of the fog cleared from Anakin's face, turning to keen focus.

“This second one? Is a workshop that just introduces many of the main genres of kink. It's got good, solid information that if you are familiar with ahead of time, will allow your discussion with Obi-Wan to not begin with a million definitions. And the third one— I know the couple presenting. They're good people.”

That one was a polyamory 101.

Anakin took back the paper and held it tight. “And you're sure he's okay?” his gaze shifted to where his former master lay curled up, sound asleep.

“I swear I will return him back to his rooms safe and in one piece once we're done. I usually get him home by twenty-one hundred after such an intense day.”

Anakin nodded. He hesitated, clearly wanting to go, but also compelled to say  _something_ . Fisto wondered if he would find out what.

_Looks like I will._

“He's... pretty sound asleep,” Anakin said at last, a gentle expression on his face. “I don't know when was the last time he slept so soundly.”

Kit nodded. “He often sleeps deeply after something this intense.”  
“He needs it. The sleep.” Anakin shuffled, gave one more nod, lifted the paper and managed an awkward half-smile as thanks for the recommendations, and headed off in the direction of the first one.

Good.

Let him sort through his thoughts and gain more information before he confronted Obi-Wan.

_Thank you, Force, that his first disgust and rage were out of Obi-Wan's range of awareness._

Hopefully he'd work through that before confronting the man so important to them both.

Obi-Wan had enough emotional distress from the ongoing war. He didn't really need to worry about losing his best friend's good opinion too.

He just didn't.

 

 


End file.
